


Paranoia

by DMM



Series: Station 442 [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Insomnia, Nonbinary Character, Paranoia, Routine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 08:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17936255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DMM/pseuds/DMM
Summary: Pleoh has a hard time getting to sleep at the best of times.At the worst of times they might consider picking up some... unsavory habits.





	Paranoia

“I won't drink myself to sleep.”

 

“I won't drink myself to sleep.”

 

“I won't drink myself to sleep– I won't do it, I  _ will not _ I don't need to drink myself to sleep.”

 

Pleoh sits in front of their desk in their bedroom. It's 10:00pm and they're getting ready for bed. Finn's long asleep, and they've checked the locks only three times thus far. Each of their knives is laid neatly, unsheathed, on the shelf of their headboard. A watch ticks steadily from an unseen corner of their room.

 

They already know they won't be getting to sleep in the next hour– next two hours even. It's commonplace for them. They either sleep in fits and spurts, or barely at all. Rarely is there a full night of rest.

 

Well.

 

They think back to the night before. They had spent the evening with Leo, and a cup of wine (or a few cups of wine) He had driven them home when they started to sway, walked them up to their apartment and…

 

And then they just. They just went to sleep.

 

Just like that. At 10:30pm. They had gotten up to their room, changed, laid down, and fallen asleep. Then they had woken up at 7 and felt  _ amazing _ . Or at least, better than they had in a few months.

 

And so it was  _ tempting _ . They were a lightweight, they knew it wouldn't take much, and they could just do it this one night, just another night they could sleep through–

 

They drop their head on the desk, tugging at their own hair “No I  _ won _ 't because then it won't just be  _ once _ , Will it Pleoh? It'll be 'just one more night’ for months and then I'll  _ actually _ be a drunkard. And there's enough shit on my reputation, I don't need to go adding more.” They pause for a moment, waiting for the thought to invade again, and when it seems successfully repressed, they stand up. Off to check the locks again.

 

They start in their bedroom, the window, the lock to the door. They haven't actually locked the door to their room since Finn moved in, and it's definitely contributing to their lack of sleep but...if Finn needs them, he shouldn't have to have a key to their door. They leave it unlocked.

 

Then the hallway. The guest room, Finn's room. They stop and press their ear against the door as they pass, but don't hear anything except for faint snoring, much to their relief, they're quieter as they continue their rounds.

 

The back door, Bathroom, windows. Downstairs they check more Windows and the front door. When they walk into the kitchen, they open their refrigerator.

 

No liquor.

 

Of course, they haven't kept alcohol in their house since Finn moved in. Before that even. They just didn't drink that often.

 

They don't have alcohol in the fridge.

 

They don't have alcohol.

 

They aren't going to drink themself to sleep.

 

They close the fridge and walk over to the counter, leaning against it, and run a hand down their face.

 

They're  _ going _ to get to sleep. It's going to happen. They're going to  _ lay down _ , and  _ not do anything _ , and  _ eventually _ they have to go the fuck to sleep, right?

 

“Right?”

 

“...I mean it would make sense right?” They look up and out of the window beside them at the city, all lit up with lights that look like stars “With nothing to do, and not a lot to think about, I should get some sleep, right?” They ask the window.

 

The unlocked window.

 

_ The window is unlocked. _

 

By the time the thought passes through their mind, they've already reached out and fixed the problem. The kitchen window is locked. But their mind is still stuck in the moment where it had been unlocked. They imagine  _ something _ bursting through and invading their home as they were just standing there, fucking around. They shut down the little toxic voice at the back of their head before it can berate them, because that  _ could've _ happened, but it  _ didn't _ .

 

Nothing jumped out at them from the dark, they're not battling some unknown, they're standing in their kitchen, alone, with the lights on, and the window is closed and locked. Nothing happened. They didn't see anything.

 

...

 

They imagine someone carefully slipping in and closing the window before they came downstairs.

 

...

 

They do a very quiet but very thorough sweep of the downstairs, then upstairs as well. They check the locks eight times as opposed to their original six, and they keep their hand by their knife, but there's nothing unwelcome in their house. Just an old candy wrapper laying forgotten behind their couch.

 

When they pass Finn's room for the eighth time, they stop again, and once more press their ear up to the door. There's still nothing but soft snoring, but they stay for longer this time, listening. Slowly they become aware of how hard their heart is beating, how they can hear their watch ticking away in their own room, how everything is just a little too loud. The colors, the sound of the air. Normal, sane people don't usually  _ hear air _ , Pleoh.

 

They listen to Finn's snores, and focus on matching their breathing with his. Is he snoring on the inhale? Or the exhale? Definitely the inhale because he doesn't sound like death, idiot. 

 

It takes a moment of careful coordination, but they breath in sync with him. In when he snores, out in the silence between.

 

They check for the eighth time, and his room is still locked. He keeps his door locked, they have a key. 

 

They're glad to note that they don't feel the need to use it, open his door and check his room. That would be rude. He's sleeping, and if he's still sleeping then no one else came in.

 

A little voice that's just slightly to far from the back of their head tells them that it might not be him who's snoring. They can't check if his window is locked. They don't know what's going on in that room.

 

But it is Finn's snores. They've heard him snore for the last few months, that's definitely a goober snore. They reassure themself with this a few times, pressed up against Finn's door, and eventually they realize that their heart isn't trying to contribute to their history of breaking their ribs anymore. The air doesn't make a sound, and the colors are as they should be.

 

They are glad to take comfort in the ticking of their watch once they enter their room, rather than hearing it from the hallway. Which also probably wasn't normal. They listen to it, keep their breathing even, and refrain from locking their door.

 

They change, lay down in bed and...keep the lights on for a little longer. Laying as still as they can in bed and memorizing the shapes their furniture makes. When their eyes start to get dry, the lights go off but their eyes stay open. At least until they can see their room again.

 

Then they finally relax.

 

Three times they are taken from almost-sleep with the  _ certainty _ that someone is standing at the foot of their bed. Once they already have their knife on their hand before they realize that nothing's Actually there.

 

Nothing's there.

 

They put the knife back neatly.

 

Nothing was ever there.

 

They take a deep breath, find the sound of their ticking watch.

 

Nothing is going to be there next time.

 

They lay back down, close their eyes.

 

It's going to be a long night.


End file.
